


Heaven's Light

by TheImaginativeLight77



Category: Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 08:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheImaginativeLight77/pseuds/TheImaginativeLight77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years have passed and a mysterious band of brutes come to Paris for mysterious reasons and a lost little girl is fleeing from them. During all the chaos, a lost past might be unraveled after being locked away for twenty years. A marvelous journey for the sake of France rests fully in the hands of one Bell Ringer as danger lurks every corner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I am TheImaginativeLight77 and this is a piece that has been worked on for three years so far and is currently going through a revision. This story will mainly focus on Quasimodo and how his life changes as he is forced to go out into the outside world when a great war commences. A missing princess, a dashed kingdom and a chance of love. I hope you all enjoy!

Dreary clouds went forth to blanket the twilight sky, darkening the quiet Parisian town. The only sound was the harsh rainfall and graceful rings of the magnificent church bells of Notre Dame. Paris had become such a quiet place since the siege of the cathedral. It was plainly not long forgotten. Everything fell calm and peaceful. Nothing unfortunate had befallen the city for a long while. For two years, at least. That night was quiet, wet, cold and households held onto their disappointment. Thunder clashed, covering over the graceful bells' tongs for the evening Mass. The gypsies kept to the pubs and nearest inns to wait out the storm. Some remained for days without care, yet some took a risk of catching a chill to move on to another inn if the one they came to first was too full.

On this particular night, to avoid being seen by the local street guards, there was a boy holding a bundle on his back ran through the empty cobblestone alley ways. For the past two years there had been a threat of Spaniard Brigands. Pirates as one would say, who had tried more than once to cross the border into Paris. Those murderers had not yet penetrated the border, but they haven't given up. Oddly, though, there had to be a reason for that threat of invasion, something no one knew. Why did those pirates want to get into Paris?

The boy carrying the bundle ran to a locked wood door entrance of the Fox's Hide and desperately banged on the door. As he waited for an answer, a tiny whimper cried out from the bundle. That softness made the lad panic.

"Shush...be still..." he whispered to the bundle before the door of the inn was opened by a crotchety old man with a face so wrinkled and dry that he easily resembled a raisin.

"I'm afraid there's no vacancy, lad. Be off before I chop that head off yer hide!" he waved the boy off.

"Good, sir, please!" the boy begged, trying to keep the bundle from slipping off. "We - I have been journeying for days, sir! If you please...to a - allow me to rest anywhere in - in here. I's...I's has spare tuppence upon me, sir. Please, sir..."

"You insolent pup! Git on before ye lose a limb! Be off!" the old coot shouted.

The door was slammed into his face. Disoriented, he had to stagger back. But, there was another matter on the boy's mind. That bundle upon his back was actually a child, in her beginning years of five and six. This peasant lad found her hiding in a donkey's shed outside the walls. Finally, he found a dry spot under a pig's pen. He gently set the bundle down and took it off to reveal this poor girl's tired face with ratted, brown shoulder length hair and sad, tired hazel eyes.

"Are you well? You feel all right?" he worriedly asked, stroking the wet hair away from her eyes.

She despondently nodded, staring off slightly. She was haunted.

"At least we got here with no trouble. Maybe – maybe you can live here, ya?"

The girl listened, but not a word she said. The peasant boy's soft smile faded away, deep in thought. He trailed his gaze downward. He didn't have the full responsibility to care for this lost one. He was homeless himself. How was he to care for her? He did like her, a lot.

"It'll be all righ'…." he spoke as he gave her a kind nudge on her shoulder. "I'm sure of it that someone will come along." he said as he tried to smile at her.

He tried to keep her calm, but he doubted that anyone would be willing to take care of this girl.

"Oi! You there!" yelled a soldier, spotting them in the pig's sty.

The boy covered her in the spare cloak before running to head them off.

"My prayers be with you..." was the last thing he said to her before he ran the opposite way with the armed men taking chase.

The chase didn't go for very long when the boy valiantly disappeared over a wall in one of the alleys and the soldiers mounted their steeds to circle the streets, shooting a couple arrows at where the boy disappeared. The girl, who he left alone, she poked out of the drenched cloak and peered around, unsure of what to do and where to go. She had no idea where she was since she spent most of the journey hidden. Her only guardian she had left her in order for her to be safe. There she sat, listening to the rain before she heard the soft rings from the high bell towers of Notre Dame, hovering over the dozing town. The bell's small tonging began to lull her to rest her eyes for a moment. They were so beautiful to listen to. Tugging the cloak about herself, and covering her whole body and face, she tried to listen to them for as long as she could. Soon enough she fell deep asleep, huddled in the dry corner of the sty right beside the Fox's Hide. Not a sound was heard and she was not seen by the towns awkward, unpredictable by passers.


	2. A Free Man

After that awful night, that lost one was not found. Dawn came and that little form disappeared without a trace. She kept to the sides of the buildings, trying not to grab any unwanted attention. She wanted to follow the sound of those bells. In her poor heart, she had a sense that they were hunting for her. She was never going back.

With the city on the edge, there were predators planning to cross into outskirts of Paris. Black horses with these murderers mounted upon them, tore through the plain farmlands, heading toward Paris. There was only one flaw in the plan; all the entrances to the city was guarded by the King's most trusted men. Captain Pheobus tried to keep the city safe since Frollo's downfall, under the King's order. It had been that way since France's throne was threatened by the pirates the year before and a tragic disappearance made everything worse.

The King's daughter was stolen in the night, by a witch, they near believed. It was planned so it seemed that she disappeared into thin air. It happened on the night after she was born to the ailing Queen and the King, Louis 14th. A baby princess with hair of brown and hazel eyes and her birth was a celebration to be remembered forever. She was deemed Aurora Marie de Versailles, the Princess and pride of France. On that day, it all seemed that everything was fine. Everything was perfect, but it all didn't last.

There was a search set after for the poor infant, but there was no trace. Forever lost.

All that madness was outside Paris's borders, making it a safe haven for most runners and gypsies.

Unfortunately, this band of pirates had come to a peasants' home for a search of a stolen treasure. They gathered round with their arrows aimed as the head of their troop patiently knocked at the door.

An innocent face opened the door and he was greeted by a dagger to the throat.

"We were just passing by..." chuckled the brute captain, Dracon, with a beastly grin. "but we would like to know if you have any daughters in your household."

The poor peasent man shook his head in terror.

"N-No! No!" he cried, fervently, trying to slam the door, but the brute, Dracon visciously shoved the man to the floor.

"SEARCH 'EM!" he bellowed at his band and they ran into the old home, breaking through.

The worst that they had done was to snag two extremely young girls from the back and dragged them before Dracon.

"They be the only ones, sir!" one of the brutes informed.

Those two precious angels turned out to not be the girl they were there for.

"Bloody -" Dracon hissed. "Kill 'em, then. Kill 'em all." he plainly sighed as he headed out the door.

The pirates obeyed and drew out their arrows to end the poor lives before there came an outcry from outside. Pheobus and his soldiers charged at the cottage, completely outnumbering the them all. Most of them tried to hold them off by shooting their arrows, killing three of the bold soldiers instantly. Pheobus took to the front, kicking Achilles hard with his sword withdrawn. With one swipe of that sword, he injured four men at once, sending those still around fleeing. Knowing that they were completely outnumbered, Dracon and his remaining few mounted their steeds and charged off at full speed. Ten pirates were killed in this attempt and, fortunately, for the peasants who were attacked, were safe and sound.

Captain Pheobus kept a sharp eye on them as they fled across the plains. The innocent were in terrible jeapardy now, also he knew what they were searching for. The heir to France's thrown was lost and was considered dead already, so why would they be searching every home they can find? One thing was for certain; the heir was alive. A young soldier, no younger than eighteen rode his horse beside him, spying the fleeing enemy.

"What's your choice of action?" the boy asked, eagerly. "Pheobus -"

"It's best if you call me sir, young man. Trust me, it'll get you places." Captain Pheobus said, turning Achilles back toward the cottage.

The soldier in training silenced himself, turning his steed in turn to follow his sire. Johnathan Kristoff became the Captain of the guard's trusted ward for four months already. He was a downright troublemaker, picking pockets and looting gypsy's street pay and Pheobus gave the lad a sporting chance as his ward, his second in command. He spared the lad the death sentence and took him in for John had no home. Once in a while the boy would go a little over his head in certain situations, similar to the present.

"Here, son. I have a chore for you." Pheobus then said in a bit of worried tone, taking out a scroll out from his armor. "Go and take this to the Court of Miracles. Esmeralda will meet you there." Pheobus stated, handing a small scroll of parchment to Johnathan.

"But, Captain, what about the ranks?"

"My business is not your concern. There will be no more questioning my authority and that will be the last time you'll ever do so, is that clear?" Pheobus lightly scorned and young John shrunk back into his more mature self.

"Yes, Captain!" he saluted.

"Good, good. Make sure she gets that message. I'm trusting you. I know you can do it." the Captain sighed, kicking Achilles into a quick gallop, leaving his ward to go by himself back to Paris.

Sighing in mere disappointment, John rode off toward Paris as fast as he could. He wanted to join the ranks, but the Captain always made him do parchment deliveries.

*

Sadly, the farmlands surrounding were in grave danger by the new threat. From the rooftops of the great cathedral, the flames of burning homes could be easily seen by Paris' most mysterious misfit. The morn had not come yet and the young bell ringer was up all the way on top of the left tower watching the devastation from afar with worry and determination. Life had not changed much, despite no longer being under scrutiny of a pair of cruel, lying eyes. For twenty years, the foul hearted Claude Frollo hid him away like an animal. A monster. He was a monster. Quasimodo still near believed that, since he used to be reminded of it on a daily basis. All alone with his thoughts the sun finally decided to show her light. Quasi drew in a content sigh and gracefully swept down into the bell tower upon the greatest of all the bells, Big Marie.

Now the stakes had run high because of these awful attacks on the farms, Quasimodo was responsible of telling the city of how safe it was by ringing Big Marie a certain number of times each dawn. Being drawn to the sun's highlight of the city below, he drew in another breath and heaved down upon the pull rope of Big Marie. The great copper iron bell made her first swing with the aid of her guardian, to and fro, slowly and heavily. Her great tong vibrated the wood shafts and the stone walls just to wake the dozing town of Paris. As Quasi pulled and raised, pulled and raised, a full flush of dreaded memories went through his mind.

"All my life, you have told me that the world is a dark, cruel place. But now I see that the only thing dark and cruel about it is people like you!"

At the moment, he held Frollo's knife in his hand. If he hadn't been in that correct state of mind he would have become as much of a monster as Frollo was. Oddly enough, that was something the young bell ringer will never regret.

Relieved to finally have the sun shining after days and days of pouring rain, Quasimodo allowed his spirit to shine by how his vast bells brought the day to the Parisians. The bells were one thing, he, though was another. Despite his generous nature, Quasi was still under suspicion of what took place within these walls. Some towns people believed he was hideous as ever, but others saw his true colors, especially Esmerelda and the guard. Dangerous times had returned and there was no blame to the city's suspicion. The kingdom was in shambles. Pirates raided the nations one by one. Only Paris stood out so far. All the shy, brave bell ringer could do now was to have the town well aware by ringing the bells every day and night. He may had been an outsider, but he was more than he used to be. A free man.


	3. The Singing Bells....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A free man, yes. Judged and ridiculed still, but his heart is as bright as the sun.

Paris was unpleasant and silent, doing about its daily routine in a subtle and in a rather wary way. News went about to the towns folk, clear as day about the Spaniard brigands and every single family who lived within Paris feared for their children. They hardly even allowed them freedom outside. Only adults went about town to gain their daily bread for the day and the narrow streets remained empty, even the gypsies kept themselves down.

_One dawn in Paris, the city awakes_

_To the bells of Notre Dame_

_A fear is aroused, we keep our wits about_

_To the bells of Notre Dame_

Notre Dame's great towers boomed brightly from those bells and to all who have lived in this poor town know of who ruled those towers. Anyone who dared draw their eyes upon his face would easily say that he was a monster, yet a child changed all that. In the midst of a fearful time, no one hardly knew who to trust so they kept a great many things to themselves and hid away most of the time when soldiers raided the streets for free loading gypsies. A group of peasant children played tag in one of the empty courts as a cloaked figured walked passed them, making way to one of the pubs. The figure unraveled her hood and took a look around to be sure she wasn't followed by any strange folk. Esmeralda, had been assisting her people to hide during such madness. Silently, she unlatched the door and swept inside, shutting the door behind her.

_Hide, hide away_

_Sing the bells, sing the soul of the bells_

_Behold now, stay alarmed_

_Just like the bells of Notre Dame_

_You have seen how strong and how great at heart_

_Who rings the bells of Notre Dame_

_Keep down, stay low_

_A wicked thing comes_

_Sing the bells of Notre Dame_

"Behold, do not fear children." the spry puppeteer said to the anxious children as they gathered before his trolley.

Clopin Trouillefou looked about before proceeding his tale.

"Listen to them. You know who rules those grand towers, no? He warns us, he rings out the dawning of a new time. That once terrible Bellringer keeps us all aware."

"Aware of what?" asked one of the girls.

"There are trials afoot. Labors of coming better days. You need not worry, dear ones, for it is he who sees it all."

_He is free_

_No longer a captive_

_The Bellringer of Notre Dame_

_He sees you_

_He will protect you_

_Who rules his roam_

_And observes our home_

_The Bellringer of Notre Dame_

Suddenly, from the elegant towers, came the loud thundering tongs of six bells, almost all in unison, singing along with the puppeteer's ditty to the legend who was making them come alive and powerful. Clopin, the head of the gypsies, remained in disguise as with the rest of his people, yet his storytelling was worth breaking a few rules for.

"You know those sounds, don't you?"

"Of course, it's Quasimodo!"

"You told us all about him." the children chorused, growing bored of the same tale being told over and over again.

"Aye, aye, aye. Ye be a smart lad," Clopin winked before a puppet of his image popped out of nowhere.

"You tell that all the time!" it shrieked.

"Hush!" Clopin bashed it flat.

"Over an' over!"

"Oi!"

"Very bor -"

"SHUT!" Clopin exclaimed as he rammed his hat onto the puppet, squashing it.

"...ing...yep..." muffled the puppet.

That caught the children's interest and they laughed loudly at that.

"A new tale is what you wish, eh? Ah, well, do I have just the one, where danger lurks at every corner."

The children's eyes grew wide as the tale began.

_"There once was a king, so grand and rich and he had his land under his thumb. You see, this king had a weakness; the love of his treasury blinded him to what was truly crucial. His wife blessed him with a princess, a beautious angel sent from Heaven, yet her father never gave her a tender touch, not even a passing glance. Listen closely now for this is where the tale truly begins, one dark, rainy night, soon after her birth, the little princess was PLUCKED from her cradle!"_

The listeners gave terrified gasps and all of them scrambled back.

"What happen - ?" gaped a little boy.

"Who was it?"

"Did she died?" piped a four year old.

The puppeteer shook his head.

 _"Never again was she seen. No one could ever find her,"_ Clopin faked a choked tone. _"That poor, dear lamb...Heed well, dear ones, the story I'm telling...'tis true! The darkest of times is upon us."_

The moment was broken when Notre Dame broke into song again. In the wooden shafts of his bell towers, Quasimodo gave a light swing as he descended down to the bottom. Keeping a sharp eye, he landed with divine accuracy before he limped his way out to the parapets. Despite his job being the warning for Paris for the past three years, the young hunchback still felt like an unwanted addition to the town. Everyone knew his name, everybody saw his hideous, malformed facade and they still hated him, somewhat. He never asked for much. Just a smile would do. Loneliness still plagued him, even his stone friends couldn't ease his pain at all, the 'Goyles Laverne, Hugo and Victor. The boy was worried.

"Quasi, what is it this time? Wanna tell us?" Laverne coaxed, giving him a light touch.

Quasimodo didn't dare answer for a moment until he let out a sigh. He was worried about Esmeralda actually. He had not seen her for two months and with the thought of her in danger again had Quasi's heart pumping fast. He could not afford to lose her again, like he almost did.

"It's nothing. I just...I just want to be alone for a while." he sighed, staring down at the delicately carved figurines upon his wood table.

"Why not tell us what's bothering you?"

"It's that girl again, huh?" Hugo prodded him. "Ha HA! C'mon! She's fine! You'll see."

Quasimodo gave them a distrustful glare and merely walked away, leaving his stone friends flabbergasted.

"He hasn't been himself lately. Haven't you noticed?" Laverne fretted, whacking a pidgion away.

"Perhaps he's _really_ sick."

"Aah, shove a bell in it!" Hugo smirked.

Quasimodo slowly walked about the bell tower, so crestfallen and lonely. If he wished, he could walk around town, but by the way life was, it was deemed better to stay clear from judging eyes. Recalling the events two years prior brought tears to his eyes. Frollo's betrayal, Pheobus' kiss for Esmeralda and all the ruddy regrets he never believed he would have. After wiping his eyes he spotted a tiny thing running across the cobblestone plaza below. He was not certain who or what it could be. Quasi instantly knew the reason for such haste by seeing a group of men chasing after it.

The homeless little girl who was carried through out Paris with the help of a peasant got herself in trouble by stealing a small slice of bread. She simply did it out of hunger and did not know it was a sin. She was only hungry! But now, she did with all her power to get away as quick as she could.

"There she is!" bellowed one of the storekeepers. "Don't let her get away!"

"You know what happens to thieves, brat?"

They made a heartless move to grab her, but she slipped away, letting out a terrified scream for help. After they miss her, one of the storekeepers thrusted a dagger at her direction, nipping her on the arm. In pain, she fell against the wall of the great church, not fully realizing that she was bleeding. She still kept running, trying to find a way into the church or a crease to hide in, but her search was in vain. Knowing what they were prone to punishing her for her crime. She was going to hang if they caught her.

Frightened and hurt, she curled herself against the wall, sobbing. Unknown to the girl, she was not alone for protecting eyes were watching her from above. The angered storekeepers happened upon the very spot she was at and found no one, only the cloak that she wore was sinking in a puddle in the road.

_She was caught by surprise when she was suddenly embraced by strong arms and carried up along the church's parapets and statues. She didn't know who was carrying her, but where ever she was being taken to, it was safe from those men. Not looking upon the face of her rescuer, she rested upon his broad shoulder when she felt the keen sting from her cut._

He could not believe it. She wasn't trying to get away from him, at all. She was clutching his tunic hard as he climbed. Quasimodo held her in one arm as he quietly climbed up to the iron roof top. She was so light that it felt as though he was only carrying a straw doll. But what was worse was that she was bleeding. A speckle of it soaked into his sleeve. Worried of how hurt she was, he hurried his treacherous climb.


	4. Don't Leave Me....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it seems, an angel has rescued her from danger....

Everything was so confusing in her eyes during the long, frightening climb up. Her arm hurt so much that she didn't dare move too much. Petrified by the height, she could only keep her face pressed against this person's broad shoulder as he climbed over onto firm stone. Dizzy and tired from the trials she went through, her eyes began to close.

The girl he spared began to shake and he tightened his hold around her. Amazingly, she had fallen asleep in his hold. Being as gentle as can be, he made his way to his loft. The 'Goyles watched the bellringer return with the small child safe and resting in one arm as he slowly walked into the loft.

"My, my….won't you look at that?" Victor mused, watching the Bell ringer return.

"She doesn't look too well." Laverne worried. "That poor little dear…."

"Now, this is something we don't see every day." Hugo whispered.

"Bless our boy's heart." the elder gargoyle sighed.

Because of the slumbering visitor, the three could only watch on as Quasi brought the girl into the silent loft. Gently, he placed her down upon his own lounge, gravely worried of how hurt she was. He took a long match and lit the two candles upon the discarded statue. Then he took a bit of cloth, applied water to it and knelt down beside her to tend to her cut arm. Laverne peered out from a corner and smiled almost tearfully at him as he began to wrap the girl's thin arm after cleansing it. As he bound it, Quasi's eyes were filled with pure compassion. Who would dare harm her was what deeply baffled him. As she lied there, asleep, he sat vigil. He was afraid of leaving her alone.

"Wha – what am I to do?" he worriedly asked himself. "I… I – I could not leave her…like that…."

*

Not much was clear about the gypsy population. There was a great mystery about them and their whereabouts. Paris lacked in her population since the threats began pouring in. Finally making it to the border of Paris, where Notre Dame could be seen completely. From afar, Johnathan Kristoff rode up to a deserted graveyard with tombstones so ancient that they were crumbling like snow. When John pulled on his reins, four men jumped up out of nowhere and surrounded the student soldier and his horse.

"What do we have here?" exclaimed one, prodding the horse with a pitch fork.

"A spy of those curs, no doubt."

"For your information," John spoke, independently. "I have brought news from Captain Sir Pheobus of the Royal Guard. I have to issue it to La Esmeralda. I'm sure you lot are affiliated with her."

"You think yourself proud, boy? We're not fools!"

Kristoff showed a hint of decent curiosity at the remark, but after some persuasion they allowed him to enter the spare entrance to the secretive Court of Miracles.

"He's moving them out?" gasped Esmeralda after reading the scrolled up piece of parchment.

She fearfully gazed up at the guilty young soldier, whose shoulders were tensed from giving such unfortunate news.

"I'm sorry, my lady. The brigands have moved further into France. There's no telling of where they might turn up next. The Captain's heading them off the best he can."

As he said this, young John dared not to look the gypsy woman in the eyes. "I'm very sorry." he whispered.

Esmeralda shook her head in disbelief as she placed a firm, protective hand upon her lower stomach in anguish. Then she looked at the soldier once more. This time with a trace of shere horror.

*

The brigands were, indeed, on the move. With fear going through the entire contintent, Dracon and his miscreants spread their terror upon any poor soul who dared to step in their tracks. After making a round shortcut to evade from the King's guard, Dracon yanked his steed to a stop, overlooking the burly stone walls that protected the lonely city.

"Behold, friends. Our crusade will end here and I will have her in my grasp once again."

A rogue rode up beside his leader in a rather respectful way.

"Captain. Not only she be in there, but a whole lot of booty to go 'round?"

"Paris is ours for the taking." Dracon smiled slightly. "You may loot what you wish, only after we find her. Am I clear?"

"Aye, sir."

Dracon kicked his horse and led on his men down the hill toward the unsuspecting wall. Just before they were to bombard the hapless iron gates, there was hope. The Captain of the French soldiers upon his rearing steed, Achilles motioned his army to charge. Both sides shot at one another and Phoebus cut off their aim of attack by showering them with arrows and blocking the path to the wall.

The sentry on duty blew out the warning call that they were under attack.

*

The poor girl had finally awoke and saw that she was lying upon a quaint bed of wool. Unsure, she shakily sat up, trying to see where she was. High above her were wood shafts reaching up so high. Beside her was a large hand, broken from some ancient statue, that cupped two melting candles. She felt very lonely here for a moment, but then she recalled...who had brought her here? She made a move to sit up more properly, but her dressed cut gave a sharp twinge.

Right then, she remembered. Those awful men who threw that dagger at her….

She crawled off the wool and wrapped herself in the linen that kept her warm. But then there was a massive sound, like thunder. She ducked underneath a table covered in artistically made figurines and wooden buildings. Her ears rang when more of those sounds came almost all at once.

Bells, she thought. Those were bells.

Soon, the bells slowly died down and she was still a little disoriented stayed hidden under that table. Something fell off the art table and landed right beside her. It was one of those figurines, only it was a bit odd looking. To her, it resembled a stone at first before she moved closer to get a better look. It was a distorted version of a hunched over man painted green, orange and brown.

Just then she heard someone climbing down the shafts above. Giving a gasp, the girl backed up deeper underneath the table with terror filling her eyes.

He had hoped all that didn't scare his charge too much. He felt increasingly guilty for the warning ringing. Leaping down to the firm wood floor, Quasimodo saw that his lounge was empty. Instantly, that frightened him! Where was she? Where did she go? He left for a full ten minutes and now she was gone.

After finding that she was nowhere in plain sight, the bell ringer began to search for her. She couldn't quite see him properly, but she didn't care, but to only stay where she was.

But this stranger…. Was it he who saved her?

"Where has she gone?" came a worried, fearful tone of a young man, that seemed so warm and welcoming to her ears.

"Oh..." choked Quasimodo almost ready to accept the fact that the girl had fled when she woke up.

Hearing of how worried he was, she had decided to show herself to him.

Quasimodo heard a soft sound behind him and turned around to find that she was fine. When a flood of ecstatic relief hit him hard for him to run out to her, he stopped. She would think ill of him when she would see his deformity.

She saw him hide behind a beam. Was it him? The person who carried her away, who helped her hurts and gave her a warm bed to sleep in? She desperately wanted to know.

Quasimodo was stressed now that she was walking closer. What was he going to do?

She peered at him, trying to see his face. "C-come out?" she asked in a tiny voice.

What was he to say? All he could do was gape at her courage of even being that close.

"I..." he forced out, but he pulled back, loathing himself for even speaking out. "I...I just...I didn't want to fright - frighten you."

After saying that, he was full of regret.

She stopped herself as she picked up the oddly shaped figurine off the floor. She looked over it for a moment then back at the table she hid under. The model was an imitation of the city itself. Hesitantly, she stepped closer to him and held it out to return it to him. Quasimodo didn't move to take it, instead backed away from her.

She soon became impatient and merely walked up to him.

"No!" he yelped, nearly jumping when she came. "Please!" he begged, fervently.

It was too late. She saw this man's face and gasped.

She saw him hide his face in his hands, pained that she had to live with this memory. The memory of his horror. The face of a monster. Saddened, she saw him run away to the outside in utter anguish and she just stood there, uncertain.

After that, she felt alone within this huge place. Soon, the tower turned dark and cold as dusk approached. Little did she know was that she was not alone. He was still watching her from high in the bell tower. Quasimodo kept to the promise he gave. He silently kept vigil as the girl explored the dusty loft.

She ran a tiny hand across the great stone face of one of the spares pieces of stone before coming upon some pottery stacked upon one another near the lounge. She took a curious look into one, not expecting a black spider to crawl out. Naturally, she gave a gasp at first and watched it scuttle away. Her bandaged arm hurt when she shifted so fast and she clutched it with her good hand. Quasimodo felt her sadness and he wanted so much to go down there to comfort her, but she was afraid of him.

"Why don't ya go down and talk to her, Quasi?" said the elderly Laverne, who happened to be next to him on the wooden shaft.

The Bell ringer sighed, showing the melancholy.

"I can't." he said. "Did you see the look on her face?"

"That's no excuse." Victor patted him on the shoulder.

"You saved her!" Hugo piped in.

"I - I know, but...she's, she's afraid of me. How could I talk to her?" Quasi gazed back down at her as she roamed around.

Upon seeing the girl so desperate and alone hurt him as much as he felt over the years of being trapped in the bell towers all of his life. He couldn't just watch her from afar forever. She sat down with her back against the parapet outside with tears slowly rivering down her cheeks. Quasi could not bear to see such agony, yet he still needed a little persuasion. Laverne placed a hand on his back and motioned to the girl for him go down there. Quasi bit his lower lip, nervous to show his face again. But after heaving a sigh, he slowly and carefully climbed downward. She would run from him, avoid him in any way she could. There was no way that she would see the true person he was. He was just an ugly bell ringer, with not but the bells themselves to grant him company.

Growing sad again, the poor child went back to the lounge and covered herself with the pelt and stayed that way until the Hunchback silently came by.

He stood far off, away from her, but his heart was breaking from such sadness. What was he to do? What was he to say? Once again, he was stuck in the same situation. Well, perhaps he could still talk to her without facing her, maybe she would trust him. He uncomfortably came over and peered over the lump in the blanket and ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of what to say.

Lord, give me strength. he lightly prayed as he knelt by her. Please, give me strength.

She felt not alone and heard him kneel down by her, before a warm voice came.

"Please, don't be afraid." he sighed, hating himself for this. "I...I am so sorry for startling you."

She didn't budge, but his tone sounded so ashamed and very crestfallen.

"I completely understand why, but...there's...there's no reason to be afraid."

That sounded so idiotic coming from his mouth. Pausing to compose himself properly, Quasi turned to the 'Goyles for help. They egged him to keep going.

"Oh…" he gave a sigh. "Will you … please forgive me?" he sadly inquired, dropping all hope of getting her trust at all.

Now she felt so guilty. If it weren't for him, she would be held for treason at the Palace of Justice to pay for stealing bread. Rubbing the tears left over from her eyes, she looked out from under the blanket, directly at him. She studied his face as he was compelled to look away from her.

He was frightened as well.

"I'm - I'm sorry." he croaked before he pulled his hand away from her, taking her by surprise.

"No." she gave a small cry and went after him.

He didn't run, nor did he cower again, but he was at awe at her boldness of even looking him straight in the eye.

"Don't leave me..." she begged as tears welled up in her eyes.

Now she had no care at all that he was malformed and crooked. All that mattered to her was that she wasn't going to allow anyone to abandon her again. Never. Determination slackened her young face as she reached out to him and took his great hand. The Bell ringer gave a soft gasp when she went forward and hugged him tightly. As tight as she could.

"Don't leave me alone!" muffled her tiny voice as she wept. "...Please..."

She seemed to be more afraid of being alone than him. What has happened to you? he thought as he lowered his raised arms to comfort her. To her great relief, she was, once again, embraced by his protection, followed by his saddened voice.

"No. I won't."


	5. The Raiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had saved her. Bless the Bell ringer.

Phoebus was suddenly knocked off his horse, nearly getting struck by Dracon. As his enemy turned his steed to get back at the Captain, Phoebus rolled over and recovered his sword. He was dislodged again when Dracon sliced down at him. He ducked. In order for Dracon to face him, Pheobus sliced at the black horse's leg, having it rear back. Dracon was thrown right off his mount. Once he hit the ground he broke into a vicious charge at the bewildered soldier.

During a split moment, Phoebus made a stab at Dracon, slicing his left leg. Giving a roar of agony, Dracon spun around to catch Phoebus by surprise. When the exhausted Captain of the guard thought he had Dracon cornered, he found a blade dug through his right side. Dracon drew an awful grin as he pulled his sword out. Pheobus fell to the grass in genuine pain. The French men were devastatingly outnumbered by the pirates and many, like their Captain, had fallen. As the Spanish brigands ran them out and took every spare weapons they could find, Dracon stepped above Phoebus, whose sight was beginning to blacken.

"Pity. Such a pity that Paris was lost because of a insufferable cur of a captain fell so easily." Dracon taunted, raising his blade for a certain execution.

Despite his hurts, Phoebus gave a sharp kick to knock off his captor's focus and slid beneath him just as Dracon slammed his weapon down. All he struck was dirt.

"A cur, huh?" the bold Captain scoffed. "Sure."

Dracon roared at his men and those about took out their arrows and aimed at the last man standing. Phoebus cursed silently and dropped his sword in surrender.

"Give up now and we might let you live." hissed the long, ratted haired rogue from behind.

"HOLD! HOLD! HOLD VAST!" cried the guards in a frenzy as dozens of them tried with all of their might to keep the great wood gates from giving way from the pounding force behind them.

Unfortunately, the brutes rammed through with their beams, stolen from the burnt farms. The gate finally gave away. Paris had fallen.

*

Notre Dame seemed peaceful amidst all the pain and misery that had just passed the walls. From way at the top of his tower, the Bell ringer could hear the enraged battle cries of the fearless soldiers trying to defend Paris. He hastily went and looked over the town only to find it in flames at the gates.

Gasping in horror, Quasimodo dashed back into the loft.

His charge was unsure of what was happening, but she hid back under that table. She could hear the danger as well. When those cries got louder, she gasped and ducked further underneath. Quasimodo went to her, but she refused to emerge. When he knelt right in front of her, she gazed up at him. His eyes were just full of anxiety and reached a gentle hand to her to hold her hand. Quasi took notice as soon as she began to rub at her dressed cut, painfully.

"Is...is it hurting you?" his voice lulled her out of her worrying thoughts. "L-Let me see it." he calmed as he gently coaxed her out from her hiding.

When ever he was next to her, she knew danger would never come near. Her mysterious rescuer seemed like the nurturing father she never had, by the way he managed to wrap her cut with a clean spare without causing a twinge of discomfort. As soon as he finished, the stinging ceased. She couldn't help but allow her tears of pain to pour. She was searching high for someone this loving and kind.

Quasimodo grew scared for her and gently wiped her cheek. "Please..." he had begun to beg. "Don't - don't...don't weep, please..."

She fought hard to stop, but he sweetly hugged her and rubbed her back. Soon, she found that her throat was dry and her stomach was empty and uncomfortable.

"It's - it's all right." he told her, seeing that she was hungry. He took her hand and guided her back to the lounge and tucked her in. "Stay right here... I will - I will bring you something warm." he said, softly. "Do...stay here."

She nodded, yet she truly didn't want him to leave her even for a second. Quasimodo was very uncomfortable with her shivering like this. But he draped the blanket over her before stepping away for a moment. She sat right back up and startled a bit when the wood floor creaked. Woozy, she laid herself down again and her eyes drifted closed for just a second. It seemed instant when she opened them again to find him returning.

Quasimodo knelt down beside her again, this time he had a wooden bowl of broth in his right hand. Quite famished, she sat up. He smiled warmly at her as he patiently took the ancient spoon, mixing the broth. She recalled having a hard time speaking to him. She wanted to know his name…to thank him properly. No one was ever so kind to her. But he seemed to understand her want to speak. Taking notice, he lowered the bowl for a moment. She swallowed hard, getting embarrassed. His face became concerned for a moment before turning warm again.

"I am…Quasimodo." he whispered to her, gesturing lightly to himself.

Her hazel eyes seemed to light up.

"Hmm…." she struggled at first, fighting against the impulse to hold back. "…Quasi…. Quasimodo…." she sighed, relieved that she finally said something for once.

He smiled deeply, loving that voice saying his name. After running away from Dracon finally, she never trusted many people, even those who had did their best to help her. But he though, he was different from the others. He came to her right when she needed him. But would he choose to remain with her? Would he run away in fear like the others?

Quasimodo took a spoonful of broth and lightly blew on it before helping her to drink it. Oh…it felt like a dream to eat something so warm and delicious. From her mouth, the broth deeply warmed up her throat and her stomach which had remained empty for so long. He fell quiet again, just like she and continued to feed her the broth gently and gradually. As soon as she was finished, he set the bowl down and took notice that she was starting to cry again.

"No…" she heard him whisper, stroking her cheek to wipe the tear away. Immediately, she went and hugged him again. "Don't you cry…. Please…." he calmed as wrapped his arms about her, trying to figure out what had happened to her. Not a moment later, he heard her say something incoherent as she calmed down.

"What did you say?" he asked, looking into her eyes, worried.

"uh…" she croaked. "Aur – ror…rora…" her voice shook, wiping her eyes as she gazed up at the Hunchback.

His face softened. "Aurora?" he lightly asked and she nodded. He then smiled before falling into thought. His expression changed to worry again before gazing at her again. There was word of the missing heir and he had never heard of the story until late the year before. Aurora Marie was the stolen infant's name. He wondered deeply for a moment. She gazed down again fearing that he was angry, but she felt him lift her head up to look at him. He seemed to be softly studying her for a moment. She needed a name other than Aurora... Something that was simple to remember and fitting as well.

"Rose..." he mumbled out at first before fully deciding. "...Rose..." he smiled, caring at her.

Just then, there was another battle cry and it startled her, but Quasimodo kept her drooping gaze on him.

"As long as you're with me, danger will never come to you." he told her, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Rose really wished to tell him of the terrible dangers he had put himself in, but the words just wouldn't escape. He could see that raging fear in her eyes and gazed out to the blood red sky, thinking of a way to escape if the brigands made it to the church. Time was short.

*

Most of the homes were destroyed and the folk had in their minds to flee away from invaders, but a group of determined gypsies had something else in mind, thanks to the ever clever Clopin. With a handy dagger in hand, he stayed hidden in the alley nearest to a couple of rogues, who have just looted gold from the shops surrounding.

"Senor Dracon has requested to search the cathedral!" hollered a third, leveling his cutlass at his colleagues throats. "Git in step, ye curs!"

"Halt it, we'll git on it!" snarled the second bilge rat, whacking the blade away from him.

"Make quick b'fore the French git hasty!"

"Agh! Enough of yer bile! We're on top o' it!"

"If that girl be found dead, he shall have our heads on a silver platter! Get a move on, NOW!

Clopin heard it all, clear and easy. They have come for the heir. She was in Paris. A young child about five or six, yet, there were many young ladies of that age. Keeping himself hidden from the raiders, Clopin took out the dagger and peered out just a little in order to calculate his aim. Underneath the sill of a window hung a wood beam that was the main piece of the streets' water gutter and, fortunately, it was coming loose after all the rain. A single line kept the thing hanging. If that line was cut, the beam might swing toward the heads of the rogues. After a moment of thought, Clopin threw that dagger at the line and cut the rope. To their horror, the thin wooden beam came swinging at them like a bat, striking them both senseless. Clopin, then, rushed out just in time to dash into the demolished bakery.

"Merde!" he panted before almost being jumped by another one of his friends. Esmeralda.

"Clopin! Oh, thank the Lord, it's only you!" she gasped, just as surprised as he was.

"Esmeralda...damn it! I almost struck you! What are you doing here?"

"They're going to raid the cathedral! We've got to warn Quasimodo!"

"I've already been enlightened on that fact. Though, I doubt that he doesn't know what's going on."

"Please, Clopin! Quasi's done so much for our sake. Just let me get to the church doors..."

"All right, all right, all right...let's see. I'll head them off enough for you to get inside, eh? It's not like we have time!" he muttered, sarcastically.

"I won't be long. We'll meet you at the Western border."

Unfortunately, a few brigands had already made it to the church court. The elderly Archdeacon weakly scrambled toward the east towers steps to warn the Bell ringer.

"Quasimodo!" he weakly rasped when the breathless hunchback nearly ambushed him simply out of fear. At first he hadn't a clue who was running up his tower steps.

"Son, listen! They're just beyond the church gates! We must leave! Hurry now!"

Quasimodo was in the midst of panic.

"Come with me!" he worriedly motioned the old man to get inside before shutting and locking the door. Lastly, he moved an ancient gargoyle in front of it.

"How, exactly, are we...?" stuttered the uncertain priest.

"I - I have no idea." Quasi nervously whispered as the Archdeacon followed him up to the lofts.

At the strong doors of Notre Dame, a barrel of cannon powder sat unmoved and seemed in fact harmless before an inflamed arrow struck the middle. In an instant, the barrel blew into oblivion, transforming the great door into splinters and fire.

On the opposite side of the church, Esmeralda ran as quickly as possible before hearing the terrible explosion.

Quasimodo and the Archdeacon felt and heard it and the bold Hunchback went to the lounge to retrieve something. To the elder's surprise, Quasi had a frozen child in his arms when he returned.

"Quasimodo, dear boy." the Priest shook his head in disbelief. "How, on Earth...?"

"I... I rescued her... last night." Quasimodo explained, nervously. "But...but now I... I believe she is more than just an orphan..."

"What are you saying, son?"

"I don't know!" Quasimodo frightfully dropped the subject. Time was getting short and fast. "Hurry!" he pressed.

Now that everything took a turn for the worst, it wasn't exactly that difficult to leave all of his memories behind. But it hurt deeply to leave so suddenly. The eastern tower door began to get beaten, while Esmeralda made it into her friend's tower. But there was no one.

"No... no..." she nearly wept out of fear and anger. "Quasimodo... my friend. Where are you?" she searched around the tower. "Quasimodo! You answer me right now!" she cried, determined to find him.

Fortunately, he did hear her. "Esmeralda?" Quasimodo gasped.

Rose clutched to him when they heard the east door get broken through. When Quasi gave her to the panicked Priest, she did not approve.

The pirates had broken in and Esmeralda somehow managed to scale all the way up the bell tower. Suddenly, three of them dashed up into the loft and spotted the addled gypsy woman.

"Ah, ha! Well! Look here, lads...fresh meat."

Esmeralda's once frightened mask shifted into one of pure rage. "Oh, no...no you don't!"

She grabbed whatever was closest to her and blocked the path of his cutlass with an iron rod. She then tried to kick the brute in the stomach. The other cornered her and put his sword to her throat.

"A feisty one. You'll be the treat fer us later on..."

Esmeralda's eyes lit up like fire before an enraged, usually gentle tone came to them.

"NO!"

All three men received a fatal welcome of being ambushed by a powerful force. The legendary bell ringer put himself in front of Esmeralda, keeping her as far away from those beasts as possible.

"Quasi-" she gasped

"Run!" was all Quasimodo said, keeping his sharpened eyes on the invaders. "Go, now!" he ordered firmly.

This was something she never wanted to do, which was to leave the closest friend she had to fight alone with three pirates.

"Not likely." she whispered behind his back as she took out a spare dagger out from her skirt.

Quasi didn't want to hear that. To have her in danger was something he never wanted to experience again and yet, life was cruel.

"What do we have here now, well, well... One of God's hideous mistakes?" snapped the proud leader of these two lustful men.

He stepped toward Quasimodo to intimidate him, but he fearlessly stood his ground. Keeping a strong arm before Esmeralda, the brute strength he possessed began to unfold.

"You have done a terrible deed..." Quasimodo began to say as he and the gypsy defensively backed away. " ...b-breaking the sanctity of the church. You are not welcome here!" the angered bell ringer then snarled.

"We would," the rogue sighed, getting cutlass to fatally dispatch the Hunchback. "Yet we're here to gain some profit. Put down your defenses and we might...let you live." he snickered while the other two prepared to be rid of the protective bell ringer.

"Perhaps, it'll best this city if we rid them of the blemishes of society?" said the third man, chuckling dryly.

His mere strength wasn't going to be enough.

Esmeralda had another idea. Much to Quasi's surprise, she threw that dagger at the armed leader and ran. Thinking fast, Quasimodo hoisted up and threw one of the spare statues at the three and followed suit. Two of them had broken their ribs, but that didn't stop them from taking chase. "I'll end that bastard. Get up, you rats!"

That occupied them for a short while and Quasimodo and Esmeralda found themselves trapped by the height of the cathedral.

There was only one way. Down below the Archdeacon fled with Rose in hand, fleeing safely to one of the inns that happened to be intact for the present.

All there was to do was to climb down.

Without word or hint, Quasi picked Esmeralda up in one arm and jumped over the parapet. He quickly hid with her near one of the pillars to fool the adversary as he searched the viaduct.

Esmeralda held tight around her friend's crooked back as he peered out for a second. He and the gypsy held their breaths when the brigand came just above them. Angry at the fact that he lost them, he took out his sword and mercilessly beheaded one of the gargoyles nearest to him. The crumbling stones rained on Quasimodo and Esmeralda. But they remained still and quiet as the brute went away. They began to breathe once again.

"Oh, Quasimodo...I...I nearly thought I was too late." she shook and clung close to him. He tried to calm his restless heart.

"I thought they hurt you." he kindly stroked her soft hand.

She held his hand back. After a spare moment of trying to recover from shock, Quasimodo very carefully began to great climb downward.


End file.
